Chapter Text
Kazuya half-slid down the grassy slope, cursing under his breath as he hopped onto the path snaking its way through the dense forest. Already, he could see where it led to the main road but he had a sinking feeling he wouldn’t make it on time.
Sure enough, he heard the familiar whine of the bus coming to a stop. He burst out into the open, sweat trailing down the sides of his face and groaned when he saw the bus already turning the corner.
“Hey!” he shouted, running after it. “Stop, please!”
Either the driver hadn’t seen him or didn’t care enough. Kazuya jogged to a stop, bending over to catch his breath. His school bag slid down his arm and he let it drop to the road.
“Have I ever told you how terrible your plans are?”
Kazuya eyed the grey cat-shaped lump that padded over, dark eyes glinting with what was definitely mirth.
“This is your fault,” he grouched. “How am I supposed to get home now? The Sawamuras are going to worry.”
“Your phone?”
“Dead.”
“Ha!”
Nyanmochi jumped out of his way as he attempted to grab the cat and pummel him, waving his dango-shaped tail in the air. For a cat that fat, he moved with impossible dexterity.
“So what are you going to do now, stupid?”
Kazuya shut his eyes and sighed. “Guess I’ll walk to the next stop. There’s another bus that goes to the station late.”
“That’s going to take an hour at least.”
“It’s better than waiting here all night.” So saying, he picked up his bag and began the tiresome journey across the asphalt, the summer heat sinking into his very being as sweat dripped down his eyelashes and stung his eyes. His glasses were smudged from their earlier journey into the forest and he didn’t even have anything to clean the lenses with.
Nynamochi, ever the pleasant companion, made off-hand comments about how nice it was that Kazuya was voluntarily shortening his lifespan (“The day when I can get the Book of Friends approaches! Hyaha!”).
Halfway to the next stop, Kazuya heard a soft whine. A heat-induced hallucination? But he stopped where he was and wiped the sweat off his forehead as he looked around. There was the sound again.
“Sensei, did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Nynamochi turned around, nose twitching.
“This way,” Kazuya said, veering off the road to look into the green depths behind the wooden fencing. He hopped over and slid down to the forest floor, following the sounds until he came to a giant tree. Vines hung down its branches and moss decorated the trunk. At the base, he spotted a giant hole.
He bent down and peered in, eyes widening as he met with a pair of golden orbs. When he blinked, there was nothing but darkness and the telltale outline of a dog. The heat was seriously getting to his head.
“Hey, what’re you doing here?” he asked, voice soft to avoid spooking it. The dog gave another pitiful whine, beady eyes glimmering, but made no attempt to move.
“Ugh. A mutt,” Nynamochi said, distaste colouring his high-pitched voice. “Let’s go, Miyuki.”
“Oh come on, it clearly needs help.”
Despite the cat’s grumbling, Kazuya coaxed the dog with soft murmurs of encouragement and it wobbled forward until he could almost touch its fur. With a grunt, he pulled the dog out of the hole and it barked at the movement.
Out in the light, Kazuya could see its red coat that gave way to white at its belly. What this shiba-inu was doing out here, he had no idea. But he wasn’t going to leave it to fend for itself. He let it down on the grass but it managed only a few steps with a limp before it collapsed on its side and let out another forlorn sound.
“Let me tell you, they might look innocent but they’re always scheming,” Nynamochi said, practically vibrating with agitation. “See how he’s trying to get your attention?”
Kazuya rolled his eyes. “He’s hurt. See his paw? It probably hurts to move. And we don’t even know how long he’s been out here.”
“Here we go picking up trouble again,” Nynamochi moaned as Kazuya gathered the shiba in his arms, taking care not to press against its injured paw.
“Let’s get you home.”
***
“Kazuya-kun, you’re home!”
Sawamura Kaori flew to the door, the lines of anxiety on her face gone in a flash as she saw him approach the gate. The moon was high in the sky, illuminating the surroundings in a faint glow.
“I was so worried when we couldn’t contact you.”
“Sorry for worrying you, Kaori-san,” Kazuya murmured, his cheeks warming. “I, uh, went to do some research for a class project and missed the bus back. And my phone ran out of battery.”
She smiled at him. “As long as you’re safe. And who’s your new friend?”
“I found him on the way. I think he’s hurt.”
“Alright, come in now and let’s get you all cleaned up.”
Kazuya watched as his adoptive mother bustled around the kitchen, weaving around Nyanmochi with an amused smile as he put on an act for dinner and made a piteous expression.
“My word! Is that a shiba-inu?”
“Eijirou-san, sorry I’m late,” Kazuya said, guilt crawling into his heart. He’d already caused enough trouble for the Sawamura family and he didn’t need to add to their anxiety.
“None of that now, Kazuya. You’re a growing boy after all,” Sawamura Eijirou said with a playful glint in his eyes. He gently took the dog in Kazuya’s hands and placed it on his lap after settling at the table.
“Looks like this fella’s had it rough. We’ll get you fixed up in no time, buddy.”
“Hey! What’s wrong with the TV?”
Kazuya’s lips quirked up at the familiar tone.
“We’re busy here, Dad!” Eijirou yelled, shooting an exasperated look in the direction of the living room. “Kazuya, go help him before he brings the whole neighbourhood down.
He nodded and slipped into the tatami-floored room, approaching the elderly man sitting before the television with a scowl on his face.
“What’s wrong, Grandpa?”
“I can’t catch the last inning because this piece of junk ain’t working right.”
Kazuya fiddled with the knobs until it was no longer crackling and filling the screen with bursts of colour. “Better?”
“You’re the only one who does any work around here,” Eitoku said, letting out a whoop as the pitcher on screen struck the batter out.
The high schooler laughed despite himself and settled next to Sawamura Eitoku. The disbelief always came first, followed by a strange fullness in his heart that Kazuya had come to identify as happiness.
He’d been living with the Sawamura family for two years now. Understanding that their love was unconditional had taken him a whole year. He’d barely spoken at the beginning, afraid of the monsters that filled his nightmares and followed him in the day. The ones only he could see.
Fleeing from the encroaching darkness and the deep chill of the youkai's touches was all he’d known for sixteen years.
But here he was, calling Sawamura Eitoku “Grandpa”.
He might've begun to bare his heart the day he accidentally tripped over a seal at an abandoned shrine while escaping from another youkai hot on his heels. What had emerged then was a strange youkai that looked an awful lot like a maneki-neko, save for his grey fur. Like all the others, the youkai had threatened to eat him, but there was nothing much it could do in its pudgy form.
“That book in your pouch!” it had demanded. “It’s called the Book of Friends! When you die, you’re going to hand it over to me. Until then, I’ll watch your ass so no one else gets to it before I do.”
The cat — “Call me Nyanmochi-sensei!” — became his ever-present companion. Despite all his name-calling and grousing, Nyanmochi was at his side when they faced all kinds of youkai who liked to sneak into his room at night to ask for their names in the Book of Friends. Apparently, Kazuya’s biological grandmother had taken a kick out of battling youkai in exchange for their names if they lost. She’d collected their names in the book, one that had collected dust after her passing until Kazuya came into possession of it.
Knowing a youkai’s name meant one had immeasurable power over them — It was why they didn’t give their true names out freely. Kazuya had, over the course of time, begun to return names to all kinds of youkai.
He’d slowly begun to discover that they weren’t all too bad. Some had even protected him from all kinds of pinches and that might’ve been around when he began to understand the love and patience the Sawamura family had. They overlooked his baffling behaviour and included him in their family activities as if he were truly theirs. Like he didn’t have to walk on eggshells around them, afraid of making the smallest mistake and disappointing them.
And then one day, Kazuya realised. He had a chance at forever with them.
The fear remained in him like an inescapable itch, and one that wouldn’t go away easily after a lifetime of living in terror of himself. Of what he saw. Of yet another rejection of his very existence as the neighbourhood children threw rocks at him and adults whispered about how unpleasant it was to be around him.
But this glimmer of hope, Kazuya fiercely held onto. He would protect them for as long as he could.
“Don’t sleep too late, kiddo.” A light weight on his head as Eitoku ruffled his hair.
Kazuya blinked and looked at the man, a faint smile on his face. “I won’t, Grandpa.” The television was off and the clock struck ten. At some point, he’d zoned out, lost in his thoughts.
“Kazuya, I’m keeping this shiba in our room to monitor him,” Eijirou said, poking his head in. The dog was curled up in the crook of his arm, paw bandaged and his deep hazel eyes droopy. Looked like he’d had a bath — his fur looked more glossy.
He made an adorable sight.
“Thank you Eijirou-san,” Kazuya said, his heart warming. They were all so kind.
They bade each other good night and Kazuya headed to his room where Nynamochi was cooped at the corner, the fan blasting in his face and sending his fur into disarray.
“You owe me ten boxes of mochi for my troubles,” he said, slit eyes roving to Kazuya. “But I’m feeling generous so I’ll let it go today.”
“How thankful I am,” Kazuya snorted.
He watched as Nynamochi slid the window open and hopped out, his round tail bobbing as he waddled away, down the roof tiles.
“Going drinking again?”
“Those guys will finish up all the sake without me if I’m late. You’re still too much of a brat to understand its appeal.”
“Those guys” being the small group of youkai whom Kazuya had helped in one way or another. They’d named themselves the “Dogs’ Circle” and met up frequently for nightly drinking sessions in the nearby forest. It was, of course, instigated by none other than Nyanmochi.
Kazuya had come to gradually enjoy their companionship — well-meaning, if a little embarrassing, what with all the long-drawn “Miyuki-sama!” when they saw him.
He watched until Nyanmochi had become a faint speck in the cover of the night and then began to lay out the futon.
He had school the next day and he’d already lost enough energy and sleep returning names to youkai in the dead of the night.
***
They named the shiba-inu “Eijun”. He was a little rascal even before his paw had fully healed. He played around with all of them and was far friendlier than any shiba Kazuya had seen before.
Much to Nynamochi’s horror, he often tried to sidle up to the cat and encourage him to play with the rubber bone Kaori had bought. The sight was hilarious to Kazuya, who’d seen the cat mock and provoke one of the neighbour’s dogs while they were walking home one day.
When he was tired, Eijun would slip into Eitoku’s lap and fall asleep, jaws opening in a wide yawn before his eyes drooped close. Close to dinnertime, he would compete with Nynamochi to see who could melt Kaori's heart first.
Lately, he’d taken to waiting at the gate until Kazuya came home. The shiba would then proceed to sit wherever he was and watch him, quiet and attentive, tail swishing from side to side.
Eiijrou told him that meant Eijun liked him. Indeed, it had begun to feel like the shiba-inu followed him around more than anyone else. Sometimes, Eijun would lean against his leg while he was studying or offer his toy like he wanted Kazuya to play with him.
Some days, he clambered into Kazuya’s open arms and nuzzled against his chest before bounding away, filling his heart with affection but leaving behind a whole lot of fur that needed multiple rounds of a lint roller to get out.
Nynamochi, often perked on Kazuya’s shoulder and hissing “Shoo! Shoo!” in a bid to keep Eijun away, actually gave in on occasion. That is, he’d let the shiba share his blanket – although by morning, Eijun would’ve stolen it and rolled in it, to Nynamochi’s absolute chagrin at the “unholy amount of fur this mutt leaves behind!”.
Eijun also spent a long time grooming himself almost obsessively, licking down his paws, then sitting back to focus on his hind legs until every hair on his body was in order. Which meant double the fur and double the cleaning time but it was worth it — usually.
This addition to the household was a welcome one and resulted in a lot more laughter. They’d put up posters in town but no one had turned up to claim the shiba-inu, so Kazuya supposed the owner had abandoned Eijun or he’d got himself lost.
The shiba-inu had an uncanny sense for youkai. Once, while the rest of the family was out, he’d stood at the gate and growled, all territorial and fierce until Kazuya went to check what had agitated him. An eerily thin youkai, one that reminded him of a human-sized needle, had been awaiting him a few steps from the gate. As if the presence of the dog truly terrified him.
Kazuya made sure Eijirou kept the shiba downstairs and that he locked the door at night so that Eijun wouldn’t come bursting into the room to scare away the youkai who dropped by his room, seeking their names.
As autumn approached, leaves browned and littered the walking paths. The temperature dropped gradually and Kazuya had to wrap his scarf snugly around his neck so that the chilling breeze wouldn’t tug it away.
He was out on a walk, trying to keep Eijun from bounding ahead while Nynamochi weighed on his right shoulder, chewing on a manjuu. The tension on the leash fizzed into nothing and Kazuya blinked as Eijun sat very still on the path, staring in the direction of the grass to their left.
“What’s wrong, Ei?” he asked, moving to see what had spooked the dog.
His heart caught in his throat as he saw what emerged. He didn’t know how he had missed it in the first place: a massive youkai, close to twice his height. He had pale, thin horns extending from either side of his forehead and he donned an elegant grey yukata that was covered by a honey-coloured haori. The white obi was loose, decorated in an intricate pattern that looked like layered flowers.
Kazuya stepped back, tightening his grip on the leash. On his shoulder, Nynamochi was quiet as they waited to see what the youkai would do.
“Are you Miyuki?” the youkai asked, voice ringing in the air. “The human that can see us?”
“And if I am?” Kazuya asked, standing his ground despite the heavy pounding of his heart.
“I am Kousei. I seek your help,” the youkai said, bowing his head. “I am at the last of my power and I fear I cannot protect the mountain my master left behind.”
“Your power?” Kazuya repeated, exhaling. “Why is it fading?”
“Ever since my master’s disappearance, exorcists have been razing our mountain. Holding them off has weakened me. Very soon, none of us will remain on the lands.”
Kazuya’s stomach dropped. Exorcists? As far as he knew, there were different clans of exorcists, with varying degrees of ability to see and entrap youkai with their spells. Some hunted powerful youkai and sealed them, as one had done to Nynamochi.
Eijun’s yips startled him and he stared at the dog, who was trying to sniff around Kousei.
“C’mon Eijun, stop!” he commanded and the dog looked up at him, ears drooping. It tugged at his heart but he had bigger matters to deal with. Literally.
“I don’t see what I could do against the exorcists,” Kazuya said, cautious. “I don’t know how to repel them.”
“You need not,” Kousei said, trailing closer. “Because at last, I have found where my master is sealed. But a part of his spirit is trapped somewhere else. If I can bring his spirit together, you would be able to release him from the seal.”
“What do you think?” Kazuya asked, turning to the cat on his shoulder, only to make the belated realisation that the weight on his shoulder was gone. Nynamochi was on the ground, staring at Kousei with a contemplative look.
“What mountain did your master guard?”
The youkai inclined his head. “Mount Misumi.”
Nynamochi’s nose twitched. “How did it happen?”
Most times, Nynamochi discouraged Kazuya from engaging with youkai, some of whom had seemingly impossible or unreasonable requests. The fact that he was showing interest was intriguing. Could it be that he had known the master of the mountain?
“Our master has always loved humans. But one day, a human he loved deeply betrayed his trust and sealed him. That human was an exorcist and his clan has since been ravaging our mountain for seasons on end.”
A youkai’s sense of time was different from a human’s. Kazuya wondered how long the youkai of Mount Misumi had been holding out against the exorcists, to the point they had been almost obliterated. It made sense why he hadn’t sensed Kousei — the youkai likely possessed a mere smidgen of his original power.
“Oi, Miyuki. Follow this one to where his master is sealed. I have to go somewhere.”
“Huh?” Kazuya asked, helpless as Nyanmochi padded off, past them. “But—”
“I’ll meet you there, you wimp. Until then, figure out how strong the seal is.”
“Follow me,” Kousei said, turning and vanishing into the forest he had come from.
“Wait up!” Kazuya said, rushing after him, realising that he’d have to take Eijun with him. The shiba didn’t protest. In fact, he bounded ahead of Kazuya as far as the leash would let him, chasing the figure of the youkai.
Could it be that Eijun could actually see the youkai?
They followed Kousei until they reached the foot of a hill. Kazuya would’ve much preferred to take the train to the stop closest to their location, but it would have been difficult with Eijun in tow. He leaned over, grasping his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
With his experience running from youkai all his life, he could have seriously considered becoming a long-distance runner.
Despite the chill, his body was all heated up from the exercise. Inhaling a lungful of cold air, Kazuya made his way up the hill, following the trailing hem of Kousei’s clothing. He sensed the seal even before they reached it — right at the top of the hill.
There was a stunning Japanese maple, like a veil of ochre red draped over the gnarled branches. Its shadow fell over a square barrier made of rope on the ground, small clusters of flowers growing everywhere except within the barrier. From his position on the hill, Kazuya could see a distant mountain, undulating against the blue sky.
“That is Mount Misumi,” Kousei said, following his gaze. “They had the gall to seal my master so close to our home. And I was a fool to not realise they would do it right under our noses.”
Eijun began to growl and bark, jaws snapping and Kazuya pulled him back. Away from the seal.
“Be a good boy,” he said, tying the leash securely around the trunk of the maple tree. Eijun continued to snarl in the direction of the seal, likely agitated by the strong energy in the area.
Kazuya shuffled towards the barrier, overwhelmed by the sheer power of the seal. If he wanted to break it, he couldn’t possibly do it alone.
Something rustled in the bushes. Kazuya turned, on his guard. Something shot out, a blur of fur and pale yellow and Kousei stepped in front of him, as if to shield him from whatever it was.
“Koushuu, what are you doing here?”
There was a fond edge to Kousei’s reproachful tone. A low growl filled the air and Kazuya realised he was staring at a fox youkai, one that was shifting into a human-like form before his eyes. He had pale, piercing eyes and a head of fluffy blond hair, complete with a pair of fox-like ears. The tip of a bushy tail, the same shade as his hair, peeked out from behind. When compared to a human, he would’ve looked just a few years younger than Kazuya.
“I followed you,” Koushuu said, eyebrows scrunched together. “Why didn’t you tell me you found our master?”
“Precisely because I knew you would do this,” Kousei said. He sounded resigned.
“How can we believe in this human?” Koushuu asked, putting himself between the barrier and Kazuya. His twin pools of blue were filled with distrust and his posture was defensive. “What if he tries something funny?”
“Youichi-sama has formed a contract with him.”
Kazuya stared at Kousei, startled. It appeared that his self-proclaimed bodyguard was far more well-known in the world of the youkai than he had initially assumed. He’d learned over time that “Youichi” was Nynamochi’s real name, the one he took on when he returned to his true form: a gigantic grey wolf, with white markings around his eyes and one right between his eyes that extended to the upper part of his snout, resembling a question mark. He was as powerful as he looked and most youkai cowered in fear at the very sight.
Koushuu looked appeased at this answer, but that didn’t stop him from glaring at Kazuya.
It appeared that their master was greatly beloved. For an exorcist to dare seal a mountain god, they must’ve had the power and confidence to do it.
“There you are,” came Nynamochi’s high-pitched voice and Kazuya turned to look at him in relief.
“I got a hint on where the other part of his soul is. It might take all your life and you still wouldn’t be able to find him.”
“That’s not very helpful,” Kazuya frowned. “Why’s that?”
“Because it was sealed in the form of an animal. Except that animal wouldn’t possess any coherent memories or thoughts, so what are the chances that it will find its way back to the mountain or to where the rest of it is sealed?”
Leave it to the predicament to worsen itself.
“Koushuu and I will depart to find hints,” Kousei said, expression neutral. “You need not trouble yourself. I will find you again if we find something useful.”
Just as abruptly as he had come, Kousei vanished into the undergrowth with Koushuu. Eijun had stopped barking and was lying on the ground, staring in the direction of the seal.
It was a silent affair on their way back down the hill — Kazuya was wrapping his head around how to find the vessel of the mountain god’s spirit when it would likely have no trace of youkai power because of the seal. Nynamochi was also uncharacteristically silent as he sat on Kazuya’s shoulders.
When they got home, Kazuya could barely hold himself up on two feet. Eijun bounded over to Eitoku and curled around the older man’s leg while he waited for his dinner, tongue lolling out.
Later, head heavy with everything he’d learned that day, Kazuya sank into the comfort of his futon and let his eyes close. He dreamed of inky black encroaching on a kaleidoscope of colours, tumbling along the veins of light until all he could perceive was the nothingness he had been swallowed in.